


say cheese

by DairyFarmer



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Bisexual Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne is the World's Okayest Dad, Casual Sex, Hook-Up, M/M, Nude Photos, Photographer Tim Drake, but everyone else does, no beta we die liek men, only he doesn't realize it, photo kink, scandals mean nothing when your dad is brucie wayne, tim's nudes get leaked and he's surprisingly casual about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23851753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DairyFarmer/pseuds/DairyFarmer
Summary: “Why are there reporters-”Dick stopped. His eyes locked on the TV.“Oh, look at that Drake- you’re trending on social media.” Damian offered far too coolly to be any form of casual.XxXIn which Tim's nudes get leaked online and he is surprisingly casual about it
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 31
Kudos: 887





	say cheese

**Author's Note:**

> ya know what i think im into this comic book shit, the general attitude seems to be 'If you don’t want what DC has prepared then homemade is alright'

Tim really hadn’t meant for it to escalate the way it did. 

Looking back he’s certain it’s something he should've slapped himself in the face for. Not to prevent old-Tim from doing it, god no, but to be more fucking  _ careful  _ about it.

He was Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne for god’s sake. He used to follow Batman and Robin around in the dead of night with nothing but a child sized backpack and a little camera that barely fit in his little paws. 

Then again maybe that’s where it all started. Young, little Timmy Drake following vigilantes by rooftop and fire escape just to get the perfect shot. Risking scraped knees and bruised elbows, partly for the thrill and partly so he could get the lighting on Batman’s cape _ just right-. _

Hey, in another life he could’ve made a great photojournalist. A second Vicki Vale.

Tim shuddered just thinking about it. 

No one could say that woman wasn’t dedicated to her craft. A serpent in lipstick and stockings with a microphone superglued to her hand. And presumably for the next few months,  _ a massive pain in his ass. _

Because if Tim was going to be the center of a media storm, he’d at least like it to have been for something that wasn’t...this.

_ CEO of Wayne Enterprise Hacked! Nudes Leaked! _

XxX

The second Tim realized he was trending on twitter, he did nothing. It wasn’t the first time, it wouldn’t be the last. 

When PR began flooding his inbox and ringing his office phone, well then he got a  _ little  _ concerned. 

When Bruce’s custom picked ringtone began chiming in his pocket, then Tim was up and  _ running _ .

XxX

Really, once the news broke and Tim had a minute to process everything with a cup of Alfred’s tea in one hand and the weight of Bruce’s stare in the other, he felt a little offended.

Hacked. The gossip rags were saying he got  _ hacked _ .

Bullshit.

“Tim, I’m not going to lecture you.”

He didn’t need to. They both knew this. They were both there when Tim drove through the sea of reporters waiting outside the gate, like sharks that smelt blood in the water. But Tim was Noah, parting the sea and delivering his people to safety. His people being himself and all his 19-year old wits he gathered about him after his swift escape from Wayne Enterprises.

The entire day and the next few months would be punishment enough in both their books.

Bruce continued staring.

“Are you compromised?”

_ Is Red Robin jeopardized? _

“No.” Tim immediately replied, memory already flickering back to the previous month. When his schedule had been stacked. Meeting after meeting every day of the week, three simultaneous cases for Batman, the Birds of Prey, and a hushed under-the-table dual investigation with Red Hood. Tim was running on power naps and energy drinks, with a temper that was burning like the fuse of a dynamite. 

Then his work computer stopped working. 

The one with all his files and notes for presentations he had lined up in a few days. And Tim got just the _ slightest bit frustrated. _ True, he could cut into his patrol to take the time to run diagnostics and troubleshoot until he fixed the problem. Or he could drop off the hunk of junk with a Wayne Electronics intern and have them fix it. 

So he did. 

Or at least he  _ thought  _ he did. 

Because Tim had two copies of the same laptop. One from Bruce and one he bought himself for its release. Bruce’s gift was proudly toted to every board meeting and made spreadsheets like no other bitch in the world.  _ Tim’s  _ laptop was more...personal. It’s what had all his photo editing software and housed every piece of his work ever since development fell out of style and digital fell in. 

No one else knew about it. 

Tim didn’t even have it connected to the internet save for the few moments when he downloaded the applications he wanted. Barbara might have an idea about it because she has an idea about  _ everything _ , but the two of them had an  _ understanding  _ about snooping. In that he didn’t want her sticking her nose into his things no more than she wanted him.

So Tim, tired and sleep deprived with two identical laptops, one of which had technical issues. One got dropped off with a techie the other didn’t. 

All Tim knew that the next time he opened his laptop, it was working. But there was only one way those pictures could’ve gotten out- and it’s not because he was  _ hacked _ .

God, who did those journalists think they were, throwing that word around like it meant nothing?

Breaking into LexCorp servers and scrambling their financial data just to see his people  _ sweat  _ during the next video conference- that was  _ hacking _ .

Changing Jason’s computer so it said  _ ‘More! Yes, daddy’!  _ at max volume every time he hit a key because all his passwords were ‘hotboi11’ and he ticked Tim off-  _ hacking _ .

But stealing your Boss’s salacious photos because you found them on his hard drive? Not even close.

The TV suddenly flickered alive, it’s program for the news kicking in to present the most recent breaking story of the evening.

Tim’s face popped up as a nicely made-up anchorwoman talked like a silent movie with a wide smile on her face. The news ticker at the bottom reading ‘Wayne Electronics Security Breach’.

“Good Evening.” She began. It most certainly was not.

Oh shit. This meant someone was getting their ass fired. 

“Someone’s getting their ass fired.” Tim breathed. Bruce made a vague noise of agreement beside him before turning his attention back to the TV where Tim’s W.E ID photo was plastered. Ew, the lighting equipment they used for that had been  _ bad _ .

Then again, Tim’s photos were entirely the reason he was in this mess.

His phone had long been set to silent but was still vibrating like crazy in his pocket. Tim neatly slipped it out and slid it onto the table where it immediatly vibrated to the floor.

Sorting through those notifications was going to  _ suck _ .

On the bright side, at least it was only photos that got out and not those deeply buried 30 second clips of Tim doing  _ exactly  _ that.

Tim’s W.E photo switched to a censored video of him doing exactly that. 

Tim sucked in a sharp breath.

Bruce tensed beside him.

“I’ll start coordinating with PR.” 

Of course he would.  _ Brucie  _ had his fair share of scandals too- mostly drunken adventures on his holiday yacht in Bora Bora, though those usually didn’t include Bruce giving or receiving blowjobs of any kind.

As Bruce stood, Tim heard the kitchen door slam closed.

“Alfred! Bruce!”

Speaking of dicks.

Dick rounded the corner into the living room, blue eyes wide and cheeks lightly flushed. His jacket was hanging off one shoulder, Damian’s backpack clenched in his hand as the demon spawn walked steadily behind him, eyes locked on his phone.

“Why are there reporters-”

Dick stopped. His eyes locked on the TV. 

“Oh, look at that Drake- you’re trending on social media.” Damian offered far too coolly to be any form of casual.

XxX

“Ya know it could be a lot worse.”

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

Jason shifted his feet behind him, adjusting his weight and- was he rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet? Tim kept his eyes locked on the target warehouse, scanning the windows for any movement. 

“Just sayin’, B man’s sure to have a lot to say to you for this one babybird.” 

“Actually he didn’t.”

Mostly because Bruce hasn’t managed to meet his eyes yet. The stuff screenshotted onto twitter was  _ uncensored _ . If anything Bruce was being merciful to him by blocking the wi-fi in the manor and only keeping it active in the cave as well as keeping all the TV’s off. Not that everyone in the family didn’t already know that Tim’s  _ everything  _ was making the rounds on the internet.

But there were just some things that Alfred should die without ever seeing.

Jason began  _ skipping  _ forward, stopping beside Tim who still wouldn’t turn to look at him. The older man hunched down, kneeling beside Tim and beginning to stroke the exposed cheek from his cowl. Jason’s helmet inched closer as Tim stubbornly refused to shift.

“Ya know you really should’ve used a condom.”

Tim began to grind his back molars. What pissed him off even more was he knew  _ exactly  _ the photo Jason was talking about. 

It was black and white, shot from above, and featured Tim looking absolutely  _ wrecked  _ with white dripping off his friction puffed lips. In editing he’d darkened his lashes and made his eyes, widened with just a hint of surprise at being caught off guard, practically  _ shine _ .

“It. Was. For. The. Artistry.” He couldn’t help but mutter, voice croaked with barely restrained murder. Jason hummed and Tim wished he would drop dead.

For a few blissful seconds, the other boy was quiet.

“So who was it? Anyone I know?”

Tim scraped his tongue slowly against the top row of his teeth.

“ _ No _ .”

God no. None of Tim’s hookups were people easily traced back to him. Mainly they were college students picked up in coffee shops, equally as desperate for distraction and as high on caffeine as Tim was. There was a solidarity there, a deep emotional understanding that only your second all-nighter in a row could bring about. Plus it was usually short and satisfying, just like Tim liked it. When you had a term paper due in 16 hours, you orgasm and you orgasm quickly. It was an efficiency that Tim respected. Bruce would be proud.

Actually scratch that, no he wouldn’t.

Jason made a considering noise in his throat, swaying gently as he slowly rubbed a rough, gloved finger against Tim’s lips. Tim fought the urge to bite it because the last thing he needed was for Batman to have cut his own patrol short to separate them.

Tim was on thin enough ice as it was.

Jason poked the tip into Tim’s mouth and it tasted like brick dust and bacon fat. Tim felt wholly justified in digging his elbow sharply into Jason’s side.

XxX

The thing about Tim’s photos is that most of them didn’t even have  _ other people  _ in them. It’s easier to get the angle he wants when he’s alone with his tripod. Then again that may be the very reason why the internet was suddenly so obsessed with Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. 

When celebrity (because apparently Tim counted as one) nudes got flushed out to the public, they normally weren’t different from anyone else’s. Sloppy, with shitty lighting and usually taken from a bathroom mirror. 

Not Tim’s. 

Tim’s were composed, designed, tasteful. There was effort in his photos.

Partial nudity shots from behind where his back arched like a  _ cat _ . 

Shots from the side where you could appreciate the sweet curve of his neck, hips, and lips.

There were even a few more risqué photos from when Tim tried experimenting with kinbaku. 

Thank god for self-timer and multi-image capture.

Sure, Tim was no Nobuyoshi Araki- but he still liked to think the pictures came out pretty well. They sure as shit should have because it was incredibly difficult to move and adjust his pose while bound and gagged. He was trained by Batman so obviously none of the knots gave much leeway.

And he was pretty sure other people saw that too because a few days after the scandal broke, most gossip mongers were spreading the idea that he had a secret photographer lover who liked seeing Timmy Wayne tied up.

Actually  _ no _ . Tim liked seeing Tim tied up.

Not that he could actually come out and say that, PR pretty much put a gag order on Tim while they dealt with the much bigger, much more detrimental scandal of Wayne Electronic’s security breach. From the way Bruce looked while on the phone in his office, things were steadily rising to the legal level. As in someone was probably getting sued or prosecuted. 

Yeesh Tim would not want to be in that person’s shoes. He really hoped it wasn’t Mark, the floor manager. Tim actually liked Mark, the floor manager.

XxX

“So word on the street is that you have an _ illicit lover _ .”

“Well, for once the street is wrong.” 

Tim didn’t bother getting up out of his current position, perched on a gargoyle and waiting for the camera feeds on his scanner to hurry the fuck up.

Jason bumps Tim’s shoulder with his leather padded one. God, out of everyone why did it have to be  _ Jason  _ that was shameless about bringing shit up.

He would’ve thought it was Dick but the other boy couldn’t even muster the courage to stand in the same room as Tim without fleeing. That tended to happen, Tim supposed. His erotic photos were everywhere nowadays. 

Not naked. They weren’t  _ nudes  _ as everyone so gently referred to them as. They were tastefully erotic depictions of the male form. It was a fine line and Tim was skipping rope.

“Bull. How’d you get those aerial shots?”

Ah, so Jason had seen those too. Just how many photos were out there?

Tim remembered those, it’d been a hard night of fixing and adjusting harnesses he’d bought on a whim. The work wasn’t as neat as he’d like and the pictures blurred slightly with all the gentle swaying but they’d been alright.

Reluctantly, Tim felt a small smirk tug at the edge of his lips. He tilted his head slightly in Jason’s direction.

“I’m a  _ great  _ multitasker.”

XxX

So it turns out that it’s not just a few of Tim’s photos, along with the handful of shitty blow job and eating out clips. It’s more along the lines of a few hundred. 

A couple of vulture bloggers have done Tim the immense favor of listing them all in increasing order of obscenity- forever immortalizing them on the internet. Well, unless he sent Bruce’s lawyers after them. Which they would get to eventually, but by that time any person who clicked would’ve already saved them to their drive and either reposted them to a different site or kept them forever.

Huh, maybe Tim should’ve coded his pictures to carry a virus if viewed on anything but his laptop. Food for thought.

A lot of them are mainly repeats of the main themes. Tim in bed, Tim in various states of undress, Tim undressed, Tim undressed but with strategically positioned bedsheets, Tim alone, Tim with other people (whose faces were cropped because whether they agreed to a shoot in the moment didn’t really count it was sort of rude), Tim tied up- the list went on. 

Probably whoever copied and sent the photos did them quickly and didn’t sort through all of them first.

_ A crime of opportunity. _

Oh- look this blogger was even nice enough to splice together all of the short videos Tim took together. Ugh, not his best work. Tim was a photographer not a videographer.

He pressed play and plugged in his headphones nonetheless.

XxX 

“What I don’t get is why is PR making  _ you  _ write the apology? I mean it’s not like you put those pics out.”

“Exactly my point!” Tim sighs, tilting back to lean against the roof air conditioner. Jason was popping the tabs on their sodas and passing Tim’s takeout into his hands with hums of understanding. “But it’s the board trying to cover their own asses, it’s this or they’re gunna make a show of tossing me out of office for  _ promiscuity _ ”

“God, what is this the 1800s?”

“Right?!” Tim yells feeling finally vindicated. Jason tugs his red helmet off and starts digging through the wax paper bag of egg rolls. He takes a wide bite out of one before talking with his mouth full.

“Soh yur doin ih?”

“Fuck no.” Tim replies, kicking his legs out and letting them swing slightly. “I’m not apologizing for shit.” 

Tim’s parents never apologized a day in their lives and neither would he.

XxX

“So, Tim…”

Tim tilted his head up, watching as a fidgeting Dick Grayson awkwardly settled into the couch across from him. The other boy shifted his legs, crossing and uncrossing them for several minutes before resting his intertwined fingers on his knees.

“Yes?”

Dick’s mouth opened and closed several times, his lips pursing for a minute before settling.

“So as you’ve grown older you’ve probably grown more  _ curious _ .”

Oh this is  _ not  _ happening.

“- you know that you can always come to me-”

“I’m not having this conversation with you either.”

“ _ Oh thank you _ , Bruce said I had to try and talk to you- but this is it! This was me trying!”

XxX

The next day Tim finds an unopened box of durex condoms, Dick’s preferred brand and he accepts the demonstration for what it is. 

XxX

“Your knot tying skills have gotten pathetically feeble, I’ll be informing father of your shortcomings,  _ Drake _ .”

Tim doesn’t even have to turn to know who’s speaking and what they’re talking about. Google’s reported an upsurge in the amount of searches for ‘bondage’, ‘rope’, and ‘shibari’. Tim has a pretty good idea what series of events could have sparked those surges.

“It’s purpose was aesthetics,  _ Damian _ .” Tim spits the name back with the same amount of lip curling as the other boy did. “Plus didn’t Bruce block the wi-fi signal and ban you from using twitter until this blew over?”

Damian sniffs in the haughty way that has Tim’s fight or flight mode activating. Emphasis on the fight.

“Father has other concerns now, because of your harlotry.”

“I  _ wish  _ I was getting paid for this, oh man I could’ve been in a privately owned gallery.”

Tim was in one once. Though ‘gallery’ was a loose term. He’d found his childhood camera and developed a few photos of himself out of nostalgia. They were tucked away somewhere between the pages of The Prince by Machiavelli on his bookshelf.

Damian huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Tim through the whites of his domino. 

“You should at least have the decency to feel ashamed! Need I remind you that your association with me is public knowledge! Have you no regard for my own reputation?!”

“Are the kids at school bothering you?” Tim asked, brows furrowing as his hands fell away from where they were adjusting his shin guards. Tim feels like that’s something Dick would’ve mentioned to him or Bruce might’ve said something at the very least to remind Tim that he was still the pettiest man in Gotham.

“Preposterous.” Damian scoffed.

You see, that’s the kind of shit that would’ve gotten Tim beat up when he was in school. Why not Damian? A recurring question. Lord, why not Damian?

“The other adolescents in my fitness class continually bring it up despite the intel being weeks old. Supposedly you are George Ellickson’s and Mary-Alice Ought’s ‘sexual awakening’.”

Translation: Damian has had his first brush with locker room talk and Tim is the subject of his classmate’s first wet dreams.

Looks like Dick would be giving someone the talk after all.

XxX

Tim gets a text in the middle of the night from Stephanie who’s working a case with Cass in Hong Kong.

The picture attached is a screenshot of Tim going down on a faceless girl he picked up at a coffee shop a block away from Gotham U. An anthropology major, her mouth tasted like bitter espresso and apple turnover.

A text quickly follows it.

_ how come you ain’t never treated me like this :/ _

Tim leaves her on read. Something he’ll catch hell for later.

XxX

Tim doesn’t return to Titan’s tower until a full month after it all starts to blow over. During a group meeting, no one is seemingly able to look him in the eye. 

Tim lasts for a total of five minutes before chiming in.

“Raise your hand if you saw the pictures and now feel awkward looking me in the face because you don’t know if you violated my privacy or not by searching for them after you saw me on the news.”

The room falls quiet for a second. Hands slowly start to raise.

“Alright. You’re all good.”

His words lift invisible weights and suddenly everyone is much more chatty.

Kon floats over and rests a heavy hand on Tim’s neck, eyes still lingering on Tim’s cheekbones rather than his domino.

“I thought you looked totally hot Rob.”

“Thank you Kon.”

XxX

Tim is standing on the ledge of an apartment building and keeping a close eye on the people stumbling out of a frat house party at the end of the block. 

The sound of boots hitting the roof behind him aren’t enough to sway his attention.

“Hey baby bird, need your input on something.” 

Of course it’s Jason. It’s always Jason. It seems like everytime Tim turns a corner, there’s Jason.

The older boy doesn’t even wait for Tim’s response before pressing himself to Tim’s back, nearly pushing him off the edge of the roof if not for the arm wound around his waist that held him in place. Tim huffs but accepts it anyway. The same way a mouse would accept the hand from above reaching into their cage and plucking them up.

It’s a living. 

“Now,” Jason began, rummaging behind Tim with one of his hands. The voice modulator in his helmet pressed against Tim’s temple. “Tell me what you think of  _ this _ .”

Jason’s phone suddenly popped up in front of Tim’s face. Tim blinked a few times to focus on the image in front of him, his throat catching as his brows shot up.

Jason was reclined on a yellow duvet, one knee propped up as the other stretched out. He was wearing simple black, cotton briefs. One of his hands was shoved down the front, palming his clearly aroused cock.

Tim stared.

Jason shifted slightly behind him, lifting Tim up slightly and jostling him like he was burping a baby.

Tim made a snooty little noise that he knows for an absolute fact is what got him pushed off the monkey bars when he was seven.

“Your technique is shit, your lighting is off, your set is simple, and you’re not even  _ naked _ .”

Tim says it like it’s a personal affront.

Jason snickers, his shoulders shaking as his helmet tilted forward and dragged against Tim’s cheek.

“ _ Cold _ , baby. Ice cold.”

Tim grumbles, muttering less than savory words under his breath as Jason’s large palm spread wide over his stomach. 

“What? You asked for input.”

Jason chokes out a throughty laugh from deep in his chest, Tim could feel it vibrate from his back.

“Hah! Yeah, but that’s not usually the kinda reaction I expect when I show someone this, then again you’re kinda a nude expert now arentcha?”

Tim huffs a breath through his nose and squirms slightly in Jason’s hold.

“I’ve actually taken to calling it  _ erotic photography. _ ”

“Ohhh, my bad Timbourine.”

“Code names, Hood.”

XxX

Tim finds out over a bowl of honeydew and blackberries who exactly should’ve been on his shit list the whole time.

“Security cameras show that the intern you dropped your laptop off with passed it onto his superior. There are no cameras in offices so the hours he had it alone mean he most likely was the culprit.”

It’s something Tim could’ve figured out within five minutes if he wanted to. It’s something Bruce knows as well but Tim can appreciate a gesture.

“It doesn’t seem like it was a personal vendetta against you. More like he saw a chance and he took it.”

Tim nodded slowly, absorbing the information as he stabbed a piece of melon with his fork.

“Either way Gordon is hauling him in for questioning, looks like a clean case.”

Tim nodded again, eyes going distant as he reached for Bruce’s untouched mug of coffee.

“Who’d of thought Mark, the floor manager, had it in him?”

XxX

It dawns on Tim pretty quickly that Jason has been flirting with him. 

Hits him alongside the brickwall that Jason shoves him into while starting a game of tonsil hockey. 

The series of photos Jason’s been sending him through text should’ve been the first tip off. Most people don’t send others their nudes and then ask for feedback. He’s closer to Bart and Kon than he is with Jason and he’s not even there yet with  _ them _ .

So suffice to say he’s the slightest bit startled when it turns out he’s there with  _ Jason _ .

“Ya know how long I’ve been thinkin of doin this?” Jason asks, breath husky and low as he croons the question into Tim’s ear. It seems rhetorical but Tim answers anyway.

“Is it when you saw me naked on TV?”

Jason  _ coos _ .

Coos like he’s a goddamn pigeon, like Tim’s an adorable ass little thing or some shit.

His stubble is also scraping the hell out of Tim’s cheek, brushing against the soft skin of his lips. Tim scowls, inching his head back even as Jason grips his chin and tugs him forward to meet his lips again. 

Jason’s tongue swipes against Tim’s mouth, probing and slipping in the moment Tim lets it part even the slightest bit. 

Jason Todd was the very definition of ‘give an inch and they’ll take a mile’.

A hand grips Tim’s hip, grinding forward and letting him feel the full length of Jason’s half chub pressing against the inseam of Tim’s thigh.

“ _ Fuck _ , baby bird.” Jason whispers hoarsely, wrapping his fingers around the length of Tim's hair and tugging his head back to expose his throat. Rough lips and stubble kiss at the junction where his shoulder and neck meet. Tim’s hands fly up to grab onto Jason’s waist, feeling the muscles flex under the palms of his hand.

“Birdie, do you know how many  _ hints  _ I’ve been dropping you?”

Tim hums in thought as Jason’s hands stroke down his sides, sending a slight shiver up his spine. 

“Do you know what people been sayin’ about you?”

“Well I know the co-host from  _ Goodmorning Gotham  _ thinks I’m a slut.” Tim offers. Jason snickers, resting his hands on Tim’s thighs and urging them further apart to fit a knee between them.

“And what say you, Timberly?”

Tim rests his forehead against Jason’s chin, lifting a knee to wrap around Jason’s waist.

“They were just pictures.” He can’t help but huff. After the storm had settled, Tim really hadn’t felt all that bent about it. Everyone else certainly did but it’s not like he’d taken them to jack off to or anything. It had just been a good way to keep up with a hobby, to show off his skill, to breach into new territory. 

Tim’s camera got it’s debut to take pictures of Batman and Robin at their most vulnerable, their most intimate crime fighting moments. In a roundabout way, it was still fulfilling its original purpose with Tim, a former Robin. In his most vulnerable, most intimate moments.

Jason smiles a grin that’s all teeth before diving down to meet Tim’s mouth again. A hand begins roughly palming his ass, gloved hands dragging against Tim’s denim coated bottom.

Jason pulls away with an almost inaudible ' _smeck'_ , his other hand coming up to cup Tim’s cheek as he starts backing them up in the direction of Tim’s living room.

“Whattdya say you and me have a photo shoot of our own?”

A shot of heat pulses in Tim’s dick. Those words should  _ not  _ be nearly as hot as Jason made them sound.

Tim’s hands begin reaching for Jason’s belt nonetheless. Jason’s hands become occupied with fumbling for his phone. Tim slaps it out of his hand in a second.

“Jay, do I  _ look  _ like I take bathroom selfies? C’mon we’re using my stuff.”

Tim has his fingers threaded into one of Jason’s belt loops, tugging him forward as he begins making his way to his bedroom, mind already flying with which lens would be best and what filters he’d use.

Jason follows willingly, his crotch leading the rest of his body as Tim led him like a dog on a leash. 

“Didn’t B just give you a lecture about securing your shit?”

Tim scoffs, pushing Jason back on the bed as he groped for the box containing all his equipment.

“Jay, you should know by now that I never make the same mistake twice.”

Tim makes a show of pulling out a single camera roll, grasping it between his fingers. It’s brand new, fresh out of the package. Tim should know, he ordered a bunch online. Wholesale.

“I’m gunna develop them myself.”

It felt good to go back to his roots.


End file.
